Escape
by suicidalunicorn97
Summary: On the anniversary of Mary's death, John Winchester numbs the pain with alcohol. Young Sam and Dean escape to Bobby's house. (Dean is 11, Sam is 7) Trigger warning for abuse. Tags: wee!chesters, John Winchester's A parenting, alcohol abuse.
1. Chapter 1

**Trigger warning for abuse.**

* * *

Eleven year old Dean Winchester hated when his dad was drunk. John was usually a pretty responsible drinker, but there were a few nights when he had too many. Tonight was one of those nights. Dean didn't blame his father, tonight was the anniversary of Mary's death. They both grieved in different ways. John drank himself to sleep on the couch watching old movies, and Dean sat out on the porch of a dirty motel room, staring up at the sky. He wondered if his mother was watching him.

"What'cha doing?" Seven year old Sammy wandered out onto the porch.

"Shh, you'll wake him up."

Sam rolled his eyes and sat next to his brother. "So what?"

"Sam, you know how he gets when he's drunk."

"I wish he didn't drink."

"Come on, he doesn't drink that often."

"Yeah he does! He's always got a bottle in his hand."

Dean shrugged. Sam was right, as much as he hated to admit it. "Okay, but he doesn't get _drunk_ a lot."

"Whatever. I'm going to bed. Are you coming?"

"I'll be there in a minute."

Sam nodded and went back into the house. A few moments later, Dean heard the unmistakable sound of glass breaking. He jumped to his feet and rushed inside, where he saw Sam standing over a broken glass.

"What happened?"

"I...I was getting a drink and my hand slipped..." Sam stammered.

"It's okay, Sammy. Go get the broom." His little brother scampered off to find it just as a sleepy John walked in from the other room.

"What the hell is this?" He glared at the broken glass.

"It was an accident." Dean kept his head down. "I'm sorry."

In an instant, John had Dean up against the wall by his collar. "You're sorry, **_sir._** " He corrected.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Sir."

"It was me." Sam stood in the doorway, holding the broom.

John released Dean. "What did you say?"

"It was me. I dropped the glass."

"Come here." Moving surprisingly fast for being intoxicated, John grabbed Sam, and in one swift movement, bent him over his knee and began to spank him.

"Stop it!" Dean yelled.

John looked shocked. His son had never yelled at him before. He roughly pushed Sam away, and backhanded Dean across the face. "Don't you ever talk back to me again, boy!" He shouted with rage.

Dean cowered on the floor. "I...I'm sorry, sir."

"Don't let it happen again." John turned and went back to the living room.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Dean ran to Sam. Are you okay, Sammy?"

The younger Winchester sniffled. "Yeah."

"Let's get out of here." Dean had considered running away when their dad was drunk before, but never acted on it. John laying a hand on Sammy was the last straw. They needed to get out of here for a while, even if it was just until he was sober.

Sam stared at Dean, eyes wide. "Where would we go?"

Dean paused. He hadn't thought about that. Then it hit him. "Uncle Bobby. He can help us."

Sam nodded. "I'll go get the cell phone."

"No!" Dean said in a hushed voice, grabbing his brother's arm. "Dad will be able to check the last caller and know where we went. I have a quarter; let's use that payphone a few blocks over."

"Okay." Sam sounded scared.

"It's okay, kid. Let's go."

They quietly made their way to the front door, and Dean slowly opened it. He cringed at the small creak, but was relieved when both he and Sam were able to slip out without too much noise.

"Run." Dean whispered to Sam. He took his little brother's hand, and together they sprinted away from the motel. After one block, Sam begged Dean to slow down.

"Can't...breathe..."

"It's okay, Sammy. I'll carry you. Get on." He leaned over, allowing Sam to climb onto his back.

Once Sam was able to catch his breath, he giggled. "I like piggy-back rides."

Dean smiled. They continued to approach the phone booth at a fast pace, using the street lamps for light. Dean ignored the burning in his lungs. He needed to get Sammy away from here.

When they finally reached the payphone, Dean slipped a quarter into the slot. He dialed Bobby's number and prayed that he would answer.

"Who is this, and how did you get this number?"

Dean sighed with relief at the familiar grumbling voice. "It's Dean."

There was a pause. "Dean? What's going on?" The older man sounded surprised.

"Can you come get me and Sam?"

"Why, what's going on?"

"Dad's drinking. He hurt Sam. Can we stay with you just for tonight?" Dean tried to keep his voice steady, but he knew Bobby could tell he was scared.

"That bastard. Where are you? I'll be there as soon as I can."

Dean rattled off the address. Luckily they weren't too far from Sioux Falls.

They settled in, knowing it would be about an hour before Bobby could get there. Making themselves as small as possible, They snuggled together for warmth under Dean's jacket in the corner of the phone booth.

"I'm sorry." Sam sniffled.

"What for?"

"This is my fault. If I hadn't broken the glass-"

"Hey! This is not your fault, you hear me?" Dean looked into his brother's tear-filled hazel eyes. "This is not on you. It's on Dad."

"Okay." Sam said quietly, not sounding convinced.

"Try to get some sleep." Dean adjusted his arm so Sam could rest his head on his shoulder.

An hour later, Dean heard the sound of a car's engine just outside the phone booth. He instinctively tightened his hold on Sammy.

 _Please be Bobby. Please be Bobby. Please don't be Dad..._

The door slid open, and Dean's breath caught in his throat.

"Aw, hell. It's just me, kiddo."

He exhaled. "Thanks, Uncle Bobby." He shifted just enough to wake Sam.

"Hmmm..." The kid muttered sleepily. "Bobby!" He opened his eyes and smiled.

"Let's get you kids out of here."

* * *

Bobby glanced in his rearview mirror. Dean was wide awake, and on high-alert. He had his arm around Sam, who was asleep on his lap. Dean's eyes kept shifting, terror flashing in them whenever they passed another car.

"Relax, kid. You're safe now."

Dean jumped, and Bobby felt bad.

"Sorry, kid."

"It's okay." Dean grinned sheepishly. "I guess I'm just a little jumpy."

An hour later, they finally reached Bobby's house. The older man picked Sam up and carried him inside. He laid Sam on a bed in the guest room, and turned to Dean. "Let's go in the kitchen. No need to wake him up."

They walked into the kitchen, and Bobby flipped on the light. Dean immediately ducked his head like he was hiding something.

"What's wrong, boy?" Dean flinched at that word, and Bobby felt sick as he realized that's what John called him.

"Nothing." Dean kept his head down.

"Dean." Bobby said softly. "Let me see your face."

Hesitantly, the boy looked up, unable to meet Bobby's eyes.

"That son of a bitch!" Bobby breathed as he saw the welt under Dean's eye. It would leave a nasty bruise. He felt rage rising inside him, and he willed himself to stay calm. The boys needed him right now. He could beat the shit out of John later.

"It's not that bad." Dean said quietly.

Bobby frowned, and went to the freezer for some ice. "Hold that on there." He instructed. "You said he hurt Sam, not you."

"He spanked Sam. Hard. I thought he was gonna do worse, so I yelled at him to stop. It's my own fault, I shouldn't have yelled at him."

Bobby shook his head. These poor boys had been through enough. Dean was always watching out for his little brother. This probably wasn't the first time the man had laid a hand on Dean, but as soon as Sam was in danger, the older Winchester took immediate action. It was heartbreaking.

"It wasn't your fault. Your dad's a real piece of work. You know you can call me anytime, right?

"I know."

Bobby sighed. "I want you to stay with me for a while."

Dean looked up, eyes wide. "Are you sure? You don't have to do this, Bobby. We'll be okay on our own."

"Son, please stay with me. Just for a while till your dad pulls his head out of his ass."

Dean smiled. "Thanks." He hugged the older man, and as Bobby held him close, he realized how thin Dean was.

"Have you been eating at all?"

The boy shrugged. "Dad doesn't leave us a lot for food. But I always make sure Sam has enough." He added proudly.

Bobby felt a profound sadness. No 11 year old should have to choose between feeding himself and feeding his brother. "Sit down. I'll whip somethin' together."

As he watched Dean shovel pancakes into his mouth, Bobby realized how neglectful his friend truly was. If he had it his way, these boys would never go back to that bastard.

* * *

 **In the next chapter, John comes to Bobby's house and gets cussed out for being an asshole. I'll probably get around to writing it tomorrow. Let me know if you like the story so far! Please review. Leave any suggestions you have :)**


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning, Dean woke up in a panic. He looked around, and didn't recognize his surroundings. He reached under his pillow for his knife, but it wasn't there. He looked over and saw Sam, still sleeping peacefully. He felt a stinging under his eye, and he touched it, wincing. It was then that the memories had come rushing back to him. Dad's drinking. The glass breaking. His father's hand flying at him and knocking him backwards. Bobby.

Bobby's house. They were at Bobby's house. They were safe.

Dean breathed a sigh of relief. He shook Sam's shoulder's, gently waking him.

"Five more minutes." His little brother mumbled.

Dean smiled. "I'll be in the kitchen when you decide to drag your ass out of bed, sunshine."

"Bad word." Sam muttered into his pillow sleepily.

Dean chuckled. Sammy's innocence surprised him sometimes. He slipped out of bed, tucking the covers back around Sam before he left. As he made his way to the kitchen, he smelled food. **_Bacon_**.

"Mornin', kid. You sleep alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks again for letting us stay here."

"Anytime." Bobby gestured for him to sit, and then served him up some waffles with a side of bacon.

Dean stared at it as if it was a foreign object. Was he dreaming?

"You okay?" Bobby asked, looking amused.

"Yeah, I just...we _never_ have bacon."

"Well, I hope you like it. Got a whole freezer of it out back."

"This is awesome." Dean started eating, saving the smoky flavor of the delicious, crunchy bacon.

"And, here comes sleeping beauty!" Bobby grinned as Sam came shuffling in.

"Is that _Bacon?_ " he asked, eyes wide.

"It's just bacon, kids. I don't see what the bid deal is." Bobby laughed.

"It's **_Bacon._** " Dean said around a mouthful of waffles. "It's like the Holy Grail of meat."

"Okay then." Bobby rolled his eyes, and served Sam a plate.

"You're the best, Uncle Bobby." Sam threw his little arms around the older man.

"Shut up and eat your food." Bobby grumbled, but he hugged Sammy back nonetheless.

After breakfast, Bobby instructed the boys to get their shoes on. They hadn't packed a bag or anything, so it was time to run to town for supplies.

* * *

Two hours later, they were at the checkout stand with some new clothes, and toothbrushes. When the cashier asked for his ID, Dean gasped a little when Bobby pulled out his Driver's License. Once in the car, Dean turned to the older man. "You used your _actual_ credit card?"

"Aw, kid..." Bobby said sadly. Making a living with theft and credit card fraud was no way to live.

They had barely reached the house when they heard a familiar sound: the Impala's engine coming down the road. Terror flashed in the boys' eyes, and Bobby felt the rage coming back. "Take these and go inside." Bobby shoved the bags at Sam and Dean, and the boys ran inside.

Bobby stood on the porch, arms folded across his chest. John threw the car in park and stumbled out. "Where are they?"

"John Winchester, you son of a bitch." Bobby resisted the urge to punch the man square in the face.

"Bobby, you tell me where they are."

"Get off my property before I call the cops."

"You wouldn't."

"Oh, I would." Bobby pulled out his cell phone. "The boys are safe, which is more than I can say when they're with you. That's all you need to know."

"You're not their father!"

"Well you ain't actin' like much of a father!" Bobby spat back, flipping open his cell.

"Fine! I'm leaving." John backed away grudgingly.

"Don't even bother comin' back til you're sober." Bobby warned.

John muttered unintelligible curses under his breath, but got in the Impala to leave anyway. Bobby breathed a sigh of relief and went inside to check on Sam and Dean. He found them in his room, cowering in the closet. Dean's arms were wrapped tightly around Sammy.

"He's gone." Bobby told them. They visibly relaxed, and came out. In an uncharacteristic display of affection, Bobby wrapped the boys in a hug. "You're safe here. That bastard can't touch you as long as I'm around."

Although they were safe physically, Bobby knew from experience that the emotional damage would last a lifetime, especially for Dean. He only hoped that in the time the boys were here, they would learn some semblance of normalcy. He vowed to be the father they needed.


End file.
